


entropy (storm/sea)

by chiefskye



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, Pining, is there a trope for when they're in love but they don't know it??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21588268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiefskye/pseuds/chiefskye
Summary: They are driven together by forces outside of themselves.
Relationships: Manuela Casagranda/Seteth
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	entropy (storm/sea)

Medicines have been sealed, bandages folded, supplies stowed into cupboards. Bedsheets have been gathered to be laundered. Blood-soaked dressings have been quarantined in a ceramic pot, and stray papers are in the wastebasket. It is Saturday night and all is in order.

Manuela is not particularly talented at keeping order, except in the infirmary where she makes the effort.

* * *

She has always thought there is a sense of order to the mechanism of a lock. She turns the key in the infirmary door. Relishes the sound of bolts sliding into place. Spins around on a wide heel.

Shoes click against the stone.

The air in the hallway has a sheen of dust motes caught in late sunset light.

He must know that she approaches; Seteth is seated at his desk, but there is no paperwork in front of him _. No distractions tonight_ , she thinks, and smiles when she meets his gaze.

“Good evening, Manuela.” Manuela wonders if it is her imagination, or if he softens when he sees her.

_Surely that’s just me._

But it is nice to see regardless.

* * *

They rarely speak of their arrangement, and certainly no one else knows about it. They might get the wrong idea, might think that they were together. Instead of worrying about emotions and public appearances, they keep it to themselves and enjoy it for what it is.

And tonight she is hoping for a taste.

“Good evening, Seteth.” She closes the door with her weight, feeling it latch and rattle her spine. “May I lock your door?”

He smiles a bit wider, a bit darker. “Please feel free.” Seteth stands to walk around his desk as she twists the lock by feel behind her back, and Manuela gravitates toward him as though guided by a force outside herself.

A force, like a storm, that in its wake leaves her in wreckage as a ship on the sea.

She can barely feel her feet, and her heartbeat fills her veins with the heat of want.

They are not a romantic pair, but in moments like this when they fit together perfectly, it is difficult for Manuela to remember that, beyond the physical pleasure they bring each other, he is not hers. When Seteth pulls her into a kiss and his hands settle on her waist, she reaches up to cradle the nape of his neck and it feels like being home.

She is no stranger to the touch of a man, and she suspects that Seteth is no stranger to the touch of a woman.

* * *

Though he does not speak of it, Manuela knows he has lost someone. She hopes he will tell her one day.

* * *

For now, Seteth finds comfort in Manuela’s kiss. His hands at her hips are to steady himself more than to steady her; she constantly upsets the balance in his world. What had started out as a tense working relationship had turned into grudging tolerance and then into a respectable, if not completely comfortable, mutual acceptance.

And then when an injury to his hand brought him to her in the infirmary one day, Manuela bandaged him up while backlit by the morning sun… 

* * *

_When she kissed his wrapped hand, her lips lingered a bit too long to be taken as a joke. Seteth had leaned toward her and pulled her hand toward him and it felt like the most natural thing in the world to meet her lips with his in a kiss._

_When they drew apart, Manuela sighed and he did not know how to interpret the sound. “I apologize if-“ Seteth began, but she cut him off with a finger to his lips._

_“Please don’t, Seteth.” Her lips twisted into a sly smile. “I was not expecting that, but I rather enjoyed it and I think you did too.”_

_He smiled in turn, and could not remember the last time he had done so in her presence._

* * *

He smiles more easily since then. They are drawn together in this arrangement by familiarity. Manuela cannot recall how many times they have been to bed together and she has not sought out anyone else since they shared their first kiss. She quite doubts that he has, either, though she tells herself that it wouldn’t concern her if he had. There has been no discussion of emotions, commitments, logistics—beyond those necessary to ensure a pleasurable experience for them both when they sleep together.

“Professor Manuela,” Seteth addresses her, still smiling. Breathtaking. Heartbreaking. He breathes in and she feels his chest rising against hers.

“Hmm?”

“Working hours seem to be over for the day. Would you care for a respite from the monastery with me?”

She huffs out a tiny laugh, her breath warm cinnamon and copper. “Are you asking me out?”

“Are you going to refuse?”

_Damn that adorable smile._ If he wore it more often around other people, maybe the monastery at large would be less intimidated by his appearance.

What was a girl to do when faced with that smile?

“Far from it, Seteth. But did you have in mind a night on the town, or something a bit more… intimate?” Because she certainly does. She wishes to find a quiet place for some very… intimate activities.

She says so, and his eyes become impossibly warmer and she sees in them the dark promise of pleasure. “As you wish, Professor _._ ”

Seteth lowers his hands and turns to his desk, though not without first sweeping them across her hips and down her backside.As she watches, he shifts things around his desk; surely checking that things are in order, which they always are. Of course. Seteth is the order to her chaos, and sometimes it makes her want to rearrange her life to have something for which he can be proud of her someday.

She returns to the door, unlocks it, and her fingers feel the jostling of the latch through her delicate bones. “Your place or mine?” she throws over her shoulder as she clicks the knob open.

“Mine is closer,” he says, and his voice is rough and low and oh, she wants him _very_ soon. “I’ll be along shortly. The door is unlocked.”

And she knows the way.

* * *

With a last look back down the hallway, she sees only part of his profile, a hand reaching up to his face. Is he exasperated by her forwardness? Tired from the long work week? Or is he soothing the muscles of his face from the strain of a smile? She may not know, but it cannot be too bad; the evening bodes well if Seteth is sending her ahead to his quarters.

As Manuela’s heels herald the steps she takes along the hallway until the sound fades, Seteth reaches up to his face. His eyes are heavy and dry from a day of reading and writing reports, but the rest of his body thrums, buzzes with arousal, ready and eager. With a quick bow of his head in the direction of the cathedral, Seteth gives a silent prayer of thanks to the goddess, then locks his office and follows his feet to the private staff quarters, feeling that he is guided by a force outside himself.

A force, like the sea, that calms the storm inside him.

**Author's Note:**

> discord server said let's get h*rny so what'd i write? this goddamn y**rning
> 
> Thanks for the support! Comments/criticism welcomed!
> 
> Might fuck around, might make this part of a series/longer story, idk


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